My brother was stationed in Greece in the mid 70s. My parents and I went to visit him. He and I and maybe my dad took a stroll in the village one evening and stopped at a store, I think. Did not look like a bar. I was offered a sip of ouzo, despite the fact that I was eleven. I liked it. But I have never had any since.
On my second trip, I was a member of the advance party, it was basically a free vacation.